“Oh but you were made, by a God who knows your name , He doesn’t make mistakes. For you, you are wanted, you, you are wanted” – Dara MacClean

Little Miss, out of the blue, started asking questions about her birth last night. It went something like this…

LM: Did you buy me from the store?

Me: No, I made you. I grew you inside me and kept you safe until you were born.

LM: God made me.

Me: Yes, He helped. But you were inside me, growing big and strong, until you were ready to come out.

LM: I didn’t like being in there (putting her hand on my tummy).

Me: That’s true. You wanted out early on, that’s why I was on bed rest for eight weeks and then you arrived two weeks early.

LM: Yeah, I remember.

At this point, Fussypants jumped into the conversation to tell his sister (erroneously) that I pooped her out my bum and that’s how she was born. Thankfully, she laughed and isn’t traumatized for life.

Two days before Mother’s Day and I did something really dumb. Fussypants asked me this morning if I could walk him into class today, because he had a gift for me. I said sure, and he said, no I mean really walk into my classroom, come all the way in. I have a surprise.

So I did and was given a brightly decorated for me, by my son, bag. His teacher told me to be careful with it, because what was inside was breakable. My son, beaming, gave me a kiss and said Happy Mother’s Day Mama!

With a full heart and a big smile, I tenderly carried it to the car. Little Miss had chosen this morning to accessorize with all her princess bling, and as I was getting her into her car seat , she dropped a bracelet and ring into the street. I set my precious gift on top of the mommy buggy, picked up the dropped jewels, secured Little Miss into her car seat and promptly drove away.

Because I was in front of the school I was not driving very fast but it was fast enough to fling my beautiful Mother’s Day present crashing to the ground. My gift, made for me by my son, which I hadn’t even opened yet. I heard it happen, stopped and retrieved it. As soon as I picked it up I knew it was broken.

My heart has hurt all day. And I’ve shed some tears. But I am married to a man who keeps a well-stocked garage so I am confident there is super glue in there somewhere that may fix this beautiful art. I am not confident that it will work but I have to try. I don’t even know how to tell my son I broke this.

So Happy Mother’s Day to all you Mamas. Hug your precious gifts close.

When I had my first child, I read all the books, even What to Expect The Toddler Years but my firstborn was 3.5 when I had my second child and for two years after that (it seems) all I read was medicine labels and newspaper headlines so file this under Just Another Thing I Missed in the Parenting Handbook.

Bedwetting. Not baby diaper leaking bedwetting or potty training bedwetting but a 45 lb SIX YEAR OLD BOY who has been dry through the night for over two years suddenly bedwetting. Said six year old boy also inherited his mother’s ginormous bladder so, we are talking a lot of pee.

In the past week and a half, Fussypants (the aforementioned age six year old) has wet the bed four times. It’s usually around 4am, though once it happened closer to 6am. And when he realizes he’s done it, he SCREAMS for me down the hall. The first time he did that, I woke up with such a start that I thought someone was in his room trying to cart him away through the window. As unpleasant as bedwettinng and the clean-up involved is, being awoken from a deep sleep like that is worse. And when I told my husband that our son had wet the bed, he mumbled “sucks for you” as he rolled over and fell back to sleep. The joys of motherhood.

The good news is that bedwetting in a previously dry through the night child is not completely uncommon. According to my Google search, 13% of all six years olds suffer some sort of nocturnal enuresis (it even has a fancy unpronounceable name). In my son’s case, it’s considered secondary nocturnal enuresis (children who are dry for at least 6 months start bedwetting again ).

The bad news is, the cause is either unknown, emotional, a change in sleep patterns or physical. My Google search also informed me that if his sudden nighttime pee-fest is physical, it could be because of something awful, “physical causes are rare, but may include lower spinal cord lesions, birth defects of the genitourinary tract, infections of the urinary tract, or diabetes.” Awesome.

At this point, I’m fairly sure it’s not physical or emotional. Nothing in our routine or life has changed, he is healthy, and is not having accidents any other time of the day. But he is a very deep sleeper. And even if he uses the toilet right before going to bed, there is still a chance he won’t wake up in time, if he needs to whiz.

So for now, our next step is to limit his fluid intake at night. I told him this morning he needed to drink plenty of liquids today because after dinner he was cut-off. He didn’t like that, but I’m sure he likes waking up wet even less.

And Hunky Hubby and I have made sure that we are not embarrassing him (until he’s a teenager and his gal pal runs across this blog post) or punishing him. We are treating it as something that just sometimes happens, a normal part of growing up and it won’t last forever (God help us). Hopefully that reassurance and limiting his evening liquids will get him back on track.

If not, Google tells me that there are bedwetting alarms (because that sounds pleasant) and a prescription medication (pleasant, I again say with sarcasm) that we can look into.

And don’t think it didn’t occur to me that this is Fate’s little joke because I was gloating about how well Little Miss was doing with her potty-training. I get Universe, you are bigger than me.